Vaporgutz

It's slow, shallow. Breaths come and go. Heavier. Yet shorter each time. More of a hassle to drink simple drops of air then it is to open my eyes, I graze my fingertips on the hardened wood of which I am to call my resting place. Once a towering Chapel of prayer, now a blazing inferno above me.

The embers scatter downwards like snow as I gaze upwards. They float gently, dancing, before they fizzle out. Close enough to reach for yet not enough to reach me. I’ve fallen many floors, through boards and stone, and finally…

Iron comes rising in my throat with a stifled cough. The taste is oh so familiar. Never pleasant. Neither is the pressure of metal pressing up against my rib cage every time they inflate.

Pain.

Unlike I’ve ever felt.

Yet, subsiding, as the minutes pass.

So many times have I felt the jaws of deaths teeth graze upon me but never so close as to consume. Now is the time, I suppose. It was a long time coming.

I’m surprised I made it this long.

Whether it be the recklessness Anabella disapproved of, or the cold shoulders I gave Taylor all those years ago. God forbid the times I rebelled against Richter.

I… made it this long…

The flames ravage what was upstairs, the sounds of the roof creaking like its about to collapse.

Friends. Connection. The stupidity of simple joys like group game nights. Cooking. Sharing. Crying.

I’m sweating, yet I shiver.

Family. My. Family. Physical touch. Anabella’s hugs. Taylors teasing. Richter’s teachings. Our time together.

Harder to breathe, even harder now that tears prick my eyes.

Blood. So much of it.

I catch my lips curl up.

Who would’ve guessed.

Tilting my head to the side as my back is pinned in place. In view, I clutch my cross, smeared in my own, warm, blood.

Greyscle wip phase.

Original sketch ⤵️